


Cradle me in your arms

by WHUMPBBY



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, consensual as far as these things go, it's sex pollen fic i was long due for, shance zine submission, shiro is trying okay?, sticky and wet fun in the jungle:D
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-09 02:28:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11094996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WHUMPBBY/pseuds/WHUMPBBY
Summary: “Shiro, I have an idea.”Hearing the vicious excitement in Lance’s voice, Shiro stopped his slow climb and sighed. “No, Lance, we will not set the tree on fire.”“How did you know?!” He was never quite sure how Lance could pitch his voice into the ‘angry teenager’ register even at the age of twenty.“Because I thought it through ten minutes ago and it’s too humid to light fire.”





	Cradle me in your arms

It was supposed to be a routine reconnaissance. The planet was lush and rich in natural resources, atmosphere was breathable if a bit humid, the plant life abounding. And most of all, it was Galra-free. So far. 

Castleship was an incredible piece of technology, but it needed to be restocked on a regular basis. Humans living there couldn't survive on green protein goo forever, they needed nutrients from plants and much more fiber in their diet than Alteans. Also, water could only be recycled so many times before it started to taste like baking soda. 

They’ve been sorted out into three groups and sent to different parts of the neverending lush jungle to gather necessary supplies. 

Keith and Pidge went East with the Princess and the Castle, closer to the low mountain range, where the sensors discovered a layer of rich, black soil that could sustain their on-board garden. Since neither of the three could in any way be trusted to pick up edible food, hauling dirt was as good of a task as any. Allura steered the Castle closer to their location, to make the trips shorter. 

Hunk and Coran landed some klicks Northwise from their position, both eager to gather as much of the local edible fruit as possible. After some initial arguments, the two finally agreed on what ‘edible’ consists of and became a two-man gathering machine. 

Meanwhile, Shiro and Lance were tasked with the ‘hunting’ part of the operation. 

Because, the planet might have been scarcely inhabited by animals, but the plants were quite quick on their feet. And the lengths they went to protect their seeds to were downright ridiculous. 

“Shiro, I have an idea.” 

Hearing the vicious excitement in Lance’s voice, Shiro stopped his slow climb and sighed. “No, Lance, we will not set the tree on fire.” 

“How did you know?!” He was never quite sure how Lance could pitch his voice into the ‘angry teenager’ register even at the age of twenty. 

“Because I thought it through ten minutes ago and it’s too humid to light fire.”

Humid was an understatement. It was downright  _ wet  _ \- the air was hot and heavy, and smelled faintly of rotting vegetation even as high as they were. 

The tree they’ve been scaling for the last hour was taller than a sequoia and wide like a building. Climbing it wouldn't be that hard if every surface wasn’t covered in slippery moss and various climbing vines. Some of them thin and numerous like wild ivy, some almost as thick as Shiro’s thigh and covered in tiny hooks that, while invisible, could snatch their suits like velcro. Or a bigger, more annoying version of velcro. 

And that was the main reason Shiro had a perfect view on the long lines of Lance’s body interrupted by nothing more than a pair of dark boxer shorts and a sporadic shadow that moved across his skin like a caressing hand. His suit was some hundred feet below them, on a wide branch that was their last ‘camp’ before the Blue Paladin finally said “fuck this, I’m melting and I’ve enough of getting stuck to this goddamn tree!” and started to strip. 

Shiro couldn’t even scold him, because as soon as Lance’s chest plate hit the moss, he was unclasping his own armour and getting out of it in record time. The only difference was that he kept the bottom part of his suit on, not willing to part with the last shreds of shame that still clung to him. His grandmother would be proud.

Lance didn't seem to have such inhibitions. His body strained as he climbed, covered in sweat and water dripping at them from the leaves and the branches, and seemingly from the air itself. Hair plastered to his forehead, blue eyes bright and wide open in the pervading gloom, he looked more like a forest sprite than anything else. 

Honestly though, climbing was easier like that. They could hook their bare feet into the nooks and crannies their shoes only slipped against, and the annoying velcro-plant didn’t stick to their hands anymore. 

“How much higher do you think we have to go?” Lance asked for the third time in the last hour. Shiro was surprised at his restraint.

He swiped a hand across his face, accomplishing absolutely nothing in terms of making it less sticky and wet, and looked up in thought. “Not sure - about thirty more feet? If the seeds are clustered on top of the tree it will make more sense to return to the lions and try from the top.” 

He was prepared for the sound of derision Lance made. “Oh, you mean, like I proposed to do before we even started this madness?!”

“Yep.”

Lance scowled at his cheerfulness and tipped one of the leaves he was passing, spraying warm stale water on Shiro’s head. To his disgruntlement, it actually felt good in the stifling heat, cooling the Black Paladin for a few precious seconds.

“Let’s stop on the next branch ahead and regroup,” Shiro proposed, extending an olive branch to his teammate. “If we can see the sky from there, good, if not, we’ll return to the lions.”

Getting on said branch wasn’t easy - it was covered in spidery vegetation and squishy moss, and the struggle made Shiro question his decision to scale the tree in the first place. He'd made it on a wave of good humour brought on by a perspective of real, honest physical exertion they didn’t usually get in the Castle. It had the boy inside of him jumping up and down in glee, shouting climb, climb, climb! Now, however, as he watched Lance’s feet slip on the slick bark that his own metal fingers had trouble gripping on to, he regretted listening to that kid. He was putting himself and a teammate in danger, and now they didn’t even have their suits to help them glide down if any of them fell… yeah, not the smartest day in his life. 

“Watch it, Shiro, it’s like a goddamn water slide!” 

Hearing the warning, Shiro treaded carefully. As soon as they found a spot with less vegetation in the way, Lance dropped down with a tired sigh, cringing briefly at the moss that squished under his ass. He cast a jealous glance at Shiro’s waterproof pants. 

“What now, Commander?” He asked wryly, leaning back against a tangle of reddish vines, - a picture of slightly battered comfort.  

Shiro looked up, but as much as he tried, he couldn't see a shred of the sky, all was just leaves and branches, and vines. At least the last ones varied in colour on this level, dark red and looking vaguely threatening because of that. The whole place was more and more creepy as the time passed in silence, the only sounds around being their own voices and heavy breathing. One would think that there would be insects galore on a planet so lush. 

But no, the silence was unsettling. 

Shiro looked down, and, uh, wow, they were really high up. His arms ached just from looking at the distance between them and the ground. Not only that, somewhere down there were their suits and suddenly finding them in that knotwork seemed like a challenge. 

“I would try to scale a few more branches,” Shiro decided in the end, waging his options. “We seem to be high enough... “

“You said it a few branches down!” Lance whined from his sprawl. “And a few branches before! I think I may stop believing you, you know?” 

Strangely, for a man who disliked complaining, Lance’s whining never ceased to be entertaining to Shiro. Maybe, because the Blue Paladin always seemed to know the exact amount of bitching that was suitable for any situation and the exact tone of voice that managed to convey his displeasure well enough without being grating? It was a precious skill few possessed, Shiro suspected. 

However, special skills or not, the three wasn’t going to scale itself.

“Come on, cadet,” he reached down to pull his teammate up by one limp arm. “Up and at’em! A Paladin of Voltron never surrenders!”  

“Yes, this is exactly how I wanted to spend my day on the only planet in this system that isn’t set on killing me.” Lance complained, stretching, his skin glistening and taut over slender muscle, his wet boxershorts leaving nothing to imagination.

Shiro caught himself staring and internally slapped the back of his own head. “Mind out of the gutter, Takashi,” he scolded himself. This day was already long. 

He waded back towards the trunk, careful where he put his feet, hands out by the sides in case he slipped. The branch was pretty narrow all in all - that gave him hope they were close to the top. He heard Lance shuffling behind him, just as careful. 

“Aw, dammit!”

...okay, not as careful.    

“Lance, what is it?”

“Wait a moment, my foot got tangled in this… let go, you! Oh, fuck my life, Shiro, I need your awesome Swiss-Army hand!” 

“Whoa, I don’t know, you’re asking so nicely.”

Still, he turned around - only to see Lance struggle with a red vine that somehow got wrapped around his shin, trying to untangle it with slippery hands. To see him fail, trip, slide to his side and…

His heart stopped for one moment and only his trained reflexes made him move, made him reach out and grasp Lance’s flailing arm just as the Blue Paladin was disappearing in the greenery below...

They fell together. 

The world blurred, green and red, and blue passing by too fast to discern their shapes. Strangled scream in his ear and a slick body struggling against his own attempts to keep them together, to slow their fall down in any way...

Shiro’s only conscious, not instinct driven, thought in that mad scramble was to pull Lance close to his chest as they crashed through the leaves and vines, and thorns and - and then finally stopped. 

Stopped via crashing into a hard surface that had his ribs rattle in his chest and his grafted arm flare with pain.

And then everything went black.

 

 

* * *

 

 

He woke up to Lance’s urgent mumbling and insistent shaking. He had to hit his head, because his mind was swimming and every move sent his stomach flailing helplessly, threatening to upend itself. 

“Shiro, wake up!  Please, wake up! If you don’t wake up we’ll probably get eaten by a cannibal plant and I don't want to end like that!” 

What...What?!

Shiro’s eyes snapped open even before his brain finished processing the information. He almost instantly regretted it, because what he saw was the ground - ground that was at least three hundred feet away from him. 

“Shiro, stop trashing! Man, stop, or we will….!”

And they were hanging over it by the singular grace of the net made out of red vines that miraculously managed to stop them from plummeting to their deaths. 

Only - what was it about the cannibal plant, again?

“Shiro, come on, man, pull yourself together! We really need your fancy hand now!”

“Huh?” Shiro looked up to see Lance’s face hovering inches above his own, the fellow Paladin pressed close to him, indecently close - especially taking into account their underdressed state. “What…”

He shifted, slightly, trying to ascertain where Lance ended and he began, and it wasn’t easy. They were hung too far from the ground to feel safe, in a net that creaked and swung with their every move, squashed together like sardines in a can. Lance was all, but straddling his lap, long legs tight around Shiro’s hips, long arms twisted around his chest, locked under his armpits. Shiro’s own left arm was thrown over Lance’s shoulder while the right one was hanging down his side.

His grafted hand was numb and half-lifeless. He could move it a bit, had some feeling in his fingers, but little strength, and the plasma crystals - when he tried to activate them - didn't react at all. Damn, he vaguely remembered hitting something with his right side… the hand probably took most of the force and got damaged in the process. As far as he could see, there was no visible dents or scratches, but who knows what happened under the plates?

That meant one thing. They were, to say it simply,  _ stuck _ . 

It was almost hilarious. 

“Oh, I am so happy you’re in good mood,” Lance mumbled into his shoulder when Shiro chuckled against his will at the ridiculous setup they’ve found themselves in. “At least one of us is happy to be captured by a sentient, carnivorous plant!”

That got his attention, alright. Enough to realise that, yes, the plant holding them up was, in fact, moving on its own. Twitching and sliding, tightening around them at odd intervals. It felt absolutely fascinating - like being held by some giant octopus - and at the same time very disconcerting for the same reason. 

“Well, it doesn't seem to be harming us.. Yet?” Shiro hedged, trying and failing to move into a position that would take him a bit further away from Lance’s face. “And it  _ did  _ save our lives.”

“Yeah, only to devour us later!” Lance whined miserably. His thin fingers poked Shiro in the back. “And stop moving! It gets more active the more you move!”

Shiro wondered how the Paladin gained that knowledge, but didn’t wonder for long. It was Lance, after all. 

“Well, maybe if we can swing ourselves to the nearest branch…” He suggested, only to be met with a headshake. 

“Nothing to swing to.”

Well, yes, alright. They were hanging in a pocket of empty space with nothing in sight they could securely grab on to. “So, we climb up.”

“...yeah, okay.”

The problem with that idea became evident in the moment they tried to separate themselves. The vines held tightly and the more they pulled against them, the more they were pushed back, to the point where breathing became a problem. “Enough,” Shiro ordered, panting against the side of Lance’s neck. “We… just have to wait… then. The others will find us soon… enough.”

“Oh, goodies.”

“I am sure they will realise soon that we haven’t reported and will come looking for us,” positive attitude was the key to survival.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Two hours later Shiro had to fight hard, because his positive attitude started to slip. 

Not only that was slipping, though.

Squished together as they were in the oppressive heat, it didn’t take long before they both turned into a tangled, sweaty mess. The plant holding them aloft was also warm - leathery in touch, like actual skin, covered in translucent... slime? Juice? It was seeping out of the bark, sticking to Shiro’s skin like liquid honey. It didn’t seem to dry - the air was too humid for that - and whenever it gathered in a bigger amount, the skin started to itch and tingle, giving Lance’s idea about carnivorous nature of the plant some creed. Shiro hoped with all his might that they weren’t slowly digested.

“It’s hot..”

Lance was more or less draped on him, limp and exhausted, cheek resting on Shiro’s shoulder, breathing slowly against the side of his neck. They had to look like a right mess and with every moment the Black Paladin regretted the whole escapade more and more.  

“Yeah, I know, buddy,” he whispered, rubbing his teammate’s back in a gesture he hoped was reassuring. Lance sighed against him and his spine arched a bit, so at least in that Shiro was successful. “We just have to last till sunset.”

They are supposed to meet the team at sunset and as of now it was their best bet at being saved. Allura was nothing if not punctual. 

Lance’s fingers slipped across the slick skin on his back and Shiro hummed, allowing himself a moment of comfort. 

“Shiro… I’m thirsty.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Like, really thirsty.”

“I know.” He was parched, too. Uncommonly so. 

“And hot…”

Shiro chuckled, patting the Blue Paladin on on the back. “We already covered that one.”

“...no.” Lance’s voice was strangely strangled this time. He struggled to put a couple of inches between them, slippery skin and clumsy hands making it hard. “No, no… different hot… can’t you feel it?” 

When Shiro finally saw his face, Lance was panicked, but there was also something else - his eyes were glassy and his cheeks flushed. He looked feverish. 

Hell, Shiro felt feverish himself. The heat was…

Wait. It was a different kind of feverish. It was - he pulled his straggling mind together with effort, pushing it into surveying the rest of the estate. The warmth was very specific and once he gave it some thought, he could pinpoint its source. 

Oh. 

So, either he has spent too much time in Space with just his hand for company and now even a brush of a squirming body against his sent him into regions inappropriate for a team leader, or… Or the plant drooling on them had some really curious properties. And Shiro wasn’t sure which one to hope for, because as much as he wanted to think of himself as not a creep, he didn’t want to imagine himself as a protagonist of some chancy porn comic either!

“Man, look… look! I know I like to flirt and joke around, but I swear to you I never mean it! I’m not a creep, Shiro, swear!” 

“Lance. Settle down, you’re making the plant nervous.” Shiro said gently. “It’s okay… I understand.” He really, really did. “Just… just calm down and let’s wait. Soon we will be saved and away from here.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

They were going to die there.

Between the heat and the dizziness, the thirst and the feeling in his lower regions he wasn’t brave enough to name, Shiro lost the sense of time. How long was it already? It felt like ages since they fell from the branch - at least that’s what the stiffness in his body was trying to tell him. The need to stretch his shoulders was overwhelming. How long was the day on this planet?

Lance was faring no better than him, or even worse, limp like an overcooked noodle, sprawled against Shiro’s chest, breathing softly. Was he even awake?

Was there a point in waking him up if the situation hasn’t changed at all?

Shiro decided against it, he just put the fingers of his flesh hand against the side of his teammate’s neck, searching for the pulse, checking the vitals… 

The touch was fleeting and warm, and it took Shiro’s heat-muddled mind a moment too long to realise that it happened at all, and then even more time to figure out what was happening. And when he finally got there, it took a few seconds to push through disbelief.

Lance was licking his collarbone. 

“L-Lance?”

“Sorry… thirsty…”

“Sweat isn’t very nutritious.” Shiro joked weakly, attempting to grasp his scattered wits back together, but Lance prevented that with one loud smack of his very pink and surprisingly soft lips. 

“On you? Man, you’re such a beefcake that even licking you has to amp my protein intake.” Was muttered against his neck and Shiro was sure he had just ruptured a vessel of two. 

“Hm, that tastes sweet…” Small licks rained on his neck and shoulder, at the sensitive skin where both met, and Shiro couldn’t stop the shiver that ran up his spine. Lance didn't seem to notice, simply hummed in thought and kept licking like a hungry feline. “Shiro, this really… it’s the plant’s juice... I think?”

“Lance, you shouldn’t eat it,” Shiro heroically kept his voice even. “We don’t know what it does…”

“It’s refreshing… try it, Shiro, tastes good.”

Somehow his brain short circuited at the request and made a strange connection between the ‘alien plant juice’ and ‘Lance’s shoulder’, God knows why. A moment later it was Lance who was shivering when Shiro ran his tongue over any skin he could reach. “Sh-Shiro?”

Huh. “It does taste good.” He wasn’t sure if he was talking about the juice or Lance, though. One more taste would probably make it clear. 

The way Lance hummed and shifted against him wasn’t bad, too. Their fronts, forced together so tightly that there was no way to fit a palm between them, rubbed slowly creating pleasant friction. Lance wasn’t as muscular as Shiro, but he was nicely put together, his chest sculpted leanly, abs tight and nipples turned into hard little points that Shiro could feel dragging across his skin. The sensation made him shiver even as a wave of stifling heat spilled inside his veins. 

It was nice. God, was it nice. Not hurried, or overtly sexual, just - slow and relaxed and pleasant. Enough to forget for a moment that they had a duty to Universe, a team waiting on them and a quite distinctively professional relationship to uphold. 

The plant holding them seemed to react to the situation, shifting around them, not squeezing anymore, but more - curious? Mapping them with twitchy tendrils, leaving behind smudges of glistering sap they tried their best to lick off of one another.

One of the vines curled around Shiro’s shoulder and close to Lance’s face. It was dark and shiny with moisture. Shiro needed only one glance at Lance’s furrowed eyebrows to know what the man intended to do. Before he could voice a warning, Lance opened his mouth and licked the vine like it was a popsicle. “Mmm, Shiro this is really good…” He kept mumbling around the mouthful, saliva glistening on his slips. 

Shiro had to look away, but still every wet noise he heard was making his stomach tighter, his skin tingly. Quiznak, the kid will be the death of him. Who would have thought that Lance possessed so much raw, genuine sexappeal? When he stopped showing off and talking, trying to cover his insecurities with fakeness - when he just let himself go… 

Or when he was drugged up to his eyeballs on the space alien vine sap. 

The thought, surprisingly, didn’t distress Shiro this time as it did before. Lance was a distraction in a class of his own. A tight, slender, hot body wiggling in Shiro’s lap… soft hands stroking his back absentmindedly, the  _ noises  _ he made!  _ Fuck _ . 

Shiro dared a look - just a peek, just because he was  _ concerned  _ \- and his mouth went drier than Pidge’s sense of humour. 

Somehow, Lance has managed to fit more of the vine into his mouth and was, for the lack of better word, attempting to blow it. 

“Lance…?” Shiro’s voice sounded faint to his own ears. “Lance what are you… doing?”

With a loud slurp, the Blue Paladin released the plant and smiled at Shiro with a dazed, blissed out look. “It’s really good… when you suck… more juice flows… and it tastes like… like pineapple...”

With a mental heave worthy of a strongman, Shiro attempted to stop his teammate from ingesting even more of the space juice that they already knew had some strange properties. If it was a muscle relaxant or something similar, they were not supposed to eat it! Any more relaxing and they will be useless, unable to escape, forced to wait for the team to find them like a pair of sitting ducks… that is, if the plant wasn’t intending to eat them. It was already moving on its own, who was to say that it wasn’t…

Wait. 

The plant was moving. With more energy than before, the vines started to shift around their captives. Shiro felt them tightening around his body, twitching and swarming up his chest and back to wind around his neck and push up against his lips… He snapped his teeth closed before he even realised what’s happening, tilted his head back as far as the position let him, away from the slimy invaders that swayed and twitched in front of his face, as if surprised that their target moved away.

What the hell! Was the plant going to…? 

Just then Lance choked and started to trash against him. His mouth was now full of the vine he previously sucked - it seemed to be pushing its way deeper into his throat. And it wasn’t alone, two others were trying to join it! Lance tried to grab them, to claw them out, but in this position his hands could just not reach! 

Energised by the feeling of danger, Shiro twisted his arms and bucked against the binding tendrils, until he could reach the right angle to grasp the offending vines and pull them out. His eyes widened when he got a look at the sheer length the plants have travelled in the short moments it took him to remove them. They had to be halfway down Lance’s esophagus! 

Lance sure acted like they were - he wheezed and coughed, lips red and eyes teary. His fingers shivered against Shiro’s back as he searched for purchase, for safety. When the vines advanced again, Lance gasped and hid his face in the crook of Shiro’s shoulder. From lack of better options, Shiro did the same. Lance’s shoulder was slimmer of course, wet when he pressed his lips against it, and Lance shuddered at the order to be quiet mouthed against his skin. They both went as still as possible, waiting for the vines to calm back down.

Which they were slow to do, because the net and its two occupants kept moving.  

“Lance,” Shiro whispered, winding his arms around Lance’s back, palms flat just under the shoulderblades. “Calm down. Breathe slowly or you’ll faint.”

“Ca...can’t!” Lance wheezed into his shoulder. “I…”

“Breathe with me.” Shiro dared to slowly stroke the dark skin with his very fingertips, careful of the vines framing them tightly. “In. Out. Slowly. In.”

Lance tried, with all his might. He choked and then hiccuped, and it took more than a few minutes for his breathing to finally start slowing down, for his chest to stop shaking and start expanding in even intervals following Shiro’s rhythm. They stayed like that for a long while, suspended, pressed close, with their eyes closed and faces hidden against one another, breathing in tandem, fingertips marking tight little circles against sweat-moist skin. Thirsty and exhausted, and now genuinely afraid, they searched for comfort in one another.

By the time Shiro realised that he’s about to fall asleep, his mind was already switching itself off.

 

 

* * *

 

 

He woke up, once more, to fevered whispers that buzzed against his ear and to the feeling of slim fingers pinching him painfully in the side. Shiro snapped awake, instantly on high alert, drowning the customary panic under the steel resolve to be useful. 

“Shiro! Shiro wake up!” Lance whisper-shouted into his neck. “Come on, man, you can’t be asleep here… fuck!” He was shifting, trying to be as subtle as possible, but in the end not managing it. The vines were agitated again, moving and pulsing, and Shiro’s mind was fuzzy at the edges, as if someone wrapped him head to toes in cotton wool. “Shiro!”

“What?” He mumbled, doing his best to stop Lance from drawing even more of the tendrils into the net. “Lance, stop moving… What’s going on?” 

“Oh thank God… they’re moving again!”

“Yes, I can feel. That’s why you have to stay still!”

“I can’t! They’re… they're moving in…”

The rest of the sentence dispersed into a high-pitched shriek and Lance surged up against Shiro, causing them both to swing back and forth. “Shiro!” 

Shiro scrambled to calm him down, gripping him hard around the waist, trying to see down over Lance’s shoulder, at the vines that moved around their legs.  

“Shiro…  _ Shiro!” _

“What is it?” He couldn't make out anything out of that tangle! “What is it doing?!”

“It’s… the plant is… God, don't make me say it.” Lance peeked at him and from what Shiro saw of his face, it was redder than a cooked lobster, tears gathering in one blue eye. “Back… it’s slipping in… Shiro...”

Like a strike of lightening, understanding came. It set Shiro’s own face aflame and spurred him into action. 

The boxer shorts were indeed a flimsy protection against a bunch of aggressive and determined alien foliage. The vines were impossible to move, though. When he pulled at one, half a dozen more moved in and he couldn’t hold on to them well with his hands slick with their juice. Lance’s thighs were already nearly invisible under the crowding plants that rubbed and teased at the cotton separating them from the skin. The angle was too awkward and it was only a matter of time before Shiro was going to be overcome and Lance was going to be… fuck knew what they were going to do to him, but neither of them really wished to find out!

There was only one thing he could do. 

Lance choked once more when Shiro brazenly pushed his metal hand into the back of his shorts and wormed it between his cheeks. It was even more of an awkward angle, but at least his hand won’t strain - it was broken already so all he could feel was some mild pressure.  

“I’m sorry,” Shiro mumbled. 

Lance’s forehead was hot against Shiro’s shoulder, his breath even more so. “Don’t… can we ignore this is happening? Please?”

“Yeah… yeah, we can.” 

The vines were restless. Denied twice already, they roamed their captives’ bodies in search of an entrance, more and more juice secreting out of the hard bark, covering them both in a glistening layer of slimy gel. Which was not good at all, because Shiro could already feel that the tingling of his skin was intensifying and Lance’s breathing once more grew short and shallow. When one stubborn tendril poked at his fingers, he pressed them tighter to Lance’s pucker and felt him shiver. And that shiver didn't feel as bad as it had every right to feel. 

“I hope they find us soon,” Shiro said just to say something.

“I don’t.” Lance shook his head against his neck. “Not-not like that!”

“It’s okay, Lance. It’s… well, it’s not really okay that we’re in this situation, but we can only make the best of it.”

“Shiro. Your hand is on my...ugh! And I am...”

Yeah, Lance was hard. But so was Shiro. For quite a while now. They were simply too close and in too much distress, not to mention drenched in an alien aphrodisiac.

“I don’t mind. We just have to take it one step at a time, right?” Where was that calm reasonable attitude coming from? He certainly didn’t feel calm or hopeful, or even not-horny. “And hey, we have all found ourselves in some strange and awkward situations before.”

“Yeah… but why is it always me who gets molested by aliens?” Lance whined piteously. “Keith will have a field day… with this one!”

“Keith will say nothing,” Shiro assured, tangling the fingers of his free hand into the tousled brown strands of his teammate’s hair, trying to distract him from the happenings down below. “I won’t let him. Now calm down, we have to… think… Can you try and wiggle your way out of this net?”

Out of the two of them Lance - with his slender build and surprising nimbleness - had the most chances at escape. If he’d only manage to free his torso, then Shiro would try to boost him up and help him free his lower part. 

He didn't take into account that when Lance started to wiggle, he was wiggling against Shiro’s very awkwardly placed fingers on one side and his very interested cock on the other. Which wasn’t helping either of them, to be honest, and Shiro was starting to see how ridiculous this whole thing was... and how was he even going to explain this one to the Princess in the mission report? 

He had to blank out again, because his thoughts went soft and fuzzy, and when he snapped back to it, his body was slumped against the net. This juice  _ had  _ to be a sedative - while also being an aphrodisiac and wrap your head around that one - or something. Making sure that the prey didn’t escape, maybe? 

“Shiro…”

Lance was still twitching against him and that wasn’t good, because the plant needed to settle and stop trying to invade their orifices. 

Then Shiro’s brain powered up and he realised that Lance wasn’t trying to escape and that the twitching wasn’t really intentional. He was to blame for it, actually, and his fingers that weren’t as still as he left them before his newest blackout. No, now they were slowly circling his teammate’s rim, sliding over it, rubbing slick juice into the tense flesh… 

And try as he might, he couldn’t really make them stop. 

And Lance didn't seem like he wanted him to, either. “Sh _ iro... _ “ 

“S-sorry,” he choked out, throat dry and tongue lazy in his mouth. “I… sorry…”

“No…” Lance’s dark head rolled against his shoulder, short puffs of moist breath hitting his collarbone. “No, that’s…  _ fuck… _ !”

The prolonged moan was more than enough to let Shiro know that his ministrations weren’t unwelcome. A part of Shiro’s brain - the still working, sane, not-drugged up part - tried to explain to him in explicit detail how what he was doing was a very bad idea, but just then Lance rolled his hips closer… and the whole explanation drowned in the wave of desire slowly clouding his thoughts. It kind of felt for Shiro as if he was filled with thick molasses, heavy and slow, and deliberate.

His metal fingers slipped against the puckered flesh and Lance responded to it beautifully, muttering and arching his back as much as he was allowed by the plants. He didn’t seem to decide yet between pushing against the probing digits or against Shiro’s dick, the internal battle displayed in the way his hips stuttered and undulated. Whenever their erections came together both Paladins hissed through their teeth, eyes closing against the delicious pressure. Soon they were both searching for a way to make the contact closer, more acute. Shiro cursed the bottom part of his suit, it kept his dick constricted to almost painful degree and whenever Lance pushed against him, stars were exploding behind his eyelids. 

At least Lance’s shorts were easier to manage, the position didn't allow for pulling them down far, but it was enough to bare two smooth globes of firm flesh that perfectly fit in Shiro’s palms. Lance mewled when his cheeks were squeezed and pushed forward, moving both of their bodies flush together, tilting his hips just so… 

“Shiro…” he moaned, grasping for purchase at the slick skin on Shiro’s back. Finally his fingers settled on the Black Paladin’s belt and used it to tether them even closer together. “Ah, fuck…Shiro...”

“I got you,” Shiro mouthed against Lance’s ear, licking the salt off his skin. “I got you, buddy…”

“Shiro… that’s dirty! Mhhm!”

Oh didn't he know that. Vaguely Shiro wondered if he will be ever able to say these words again without hearing the sound Lance made when his ass was being played with. Will he be ever able to look at his fellow Paladin and not self-combust at the memory of pushing his metal fingers against the tense ring of muscle and pressing inside? Two at once, the passage slippery with sap and relaxed enough to grant easy passage. The angle a bit awkward, not allowing for deep penetration - up to the second knuckle, no more. But then, no more was needed, Lance seemed happy enough with what he was getting.

Shiro wished he could reach between them to undo his belt and grab their dicks together, to stroke them in time with his fingers pressing into the wet heat of his teammate’s hole. To move a bit away so he could see Lance’s face fully, not just the glimpses from the corner of his eye. He wanted to see these blue eyes heavy with pleasure, these tan cheeks flushed with blood. 

Lance, for all his flirting and forwardness, was startlingly shy in some respects and easy to embarrass. He recovered quickly, but catching him in that moment of embarrassed softness was always a treasured experience.    

And now Shiro wanted to see it all displayed before him. The blush, the skin moist with sweat, the way Lance’s lips shone as he gasped for air when thick metal digits repeatedly drove into his ass. Fuck, Shiro wished that his grafted hand wasn’t busted, so he could go faster, deeper. That he could _feel_ the pressure _all_ around them. His flesh one was too awkwardly placed to reach all the way down there, so he used it to pet Lance’s side, feeling the way lean muscles shifted, to tangle his fingers in the short hair on the back of his teammate’s neck, to hold him close and still.

“Don’t move too much,” he said and his voice surprised them both with taking on a tone of order - low and gravelly, parched. “Stay still, so the vines…” And just to make it harder, he pushed in a third finger, making Lance keen into his neck. “Shh..”

“Shiro… such an… assho _ mdoitagain _ …!”

Always a caring and considerate leader, he did it again and Lance crashed against him like a wave, loud and untamed. The pressure on his dick was unbearable, making Shiro bite his teeth together, but it was so good at the same time. Yes, it was way too long with just him and his hand… too long… 

And he thought it can’t get any better, but then Lance’s lips moved onto this neck teeth scraping against his skin, nimble tongue soothing the little hurts almost immediately. Every touch sent a shiver down his spine and, even though Shiro was about to boil out of his flesh, his skin broke out in goosebumps. The sensation of that wet mouth went straight to his cock, bringing with it even more delight and torture. 

“Lance…”

“Shiro…  _ more… _ ” 

_ More. Faster. Deeper. _ These were unspoken - and at the same time perfectly vocalised by every little moan Lance breathed out and in the way his hips stuttered in their unrelenting rhythm meant to bring them closer to the finish line. 

Shiro couldn’t move his hand faster, but that didn't stop him from trying, twisting his shoulder in a way that was only possible because his arm was made of metal. The moment he’s finally managed a position that allowed for deeper penetration - heralded by the way Lance jumped like a livewire when his prostate got some well-deserved attention - was one of these rare ones when Shiro was actually grateful for his grafted limb. Oh yes, now that he could thrust his fingers all the way to the lack knuckles, twist them inside and make Lance  _ dance  _ in his lap. 

God, that was hot! He regretted that he’s never made time to consider that - to consider the Blue Paladin as a viable option, as a more than just someone to watch from time to time and sometimes have dirty daydreams about… because, it was easy to admit, Lance had game. If he didn't, he wouldn't be able to fuck his way through a throng of alien beauties of all shapes and sizes. And Shiro wasn’t immune to that, he was simply duty-bound to try and ignore it…

Not anymore, it seemed. Lance bit where his neck meet shoulder and Shiro’s groan echoed in the empty space around them. His cock twitched when slim fingers crawled underneath his belt to knead at the muscle of his back, stroking up and down his spine in a sensual massage that had Shiro’s body loose and relaxed in some places and achingly wound up in others. 

The vines weren’t helping matters at all. Excited with their prey being so lively, their interest in investigating it seemed to resurface, making them caress the Paladins with dozens slimy tendrils. And if Shiro closed his eyes, he could easily imagine them to be hands… Quiznak, he wasn’t going to last. Not at this rate. Not if Lance’s hot tongue starts to work at his ear. 

But still, Shiro wasn’t willing to go first. He needed to see - to hear and feel Lance fall over the edge. To have him come undone on Shiro’s fingers alone!

He stabbed his fingers straight up, wrist straining, pushing against the Blue Paladin’s prostate and didn't let up when the man strained against him. He held them there, fingers twitching in tiny circles over the gland as Lance mewled into his ear, gasping as if there wasn’t enough air in the world. Was it the human hand Shiro was sure that the way Lance’s channel tightened would have cut off the feeling in his fingers. Thankfully, he could keep this up, push Lance over the edge and keep him falling until he was satisfied, until his own body drank its fill and jumped right after. 

Shiro’s vision blanked out for a solid minute. There was something amazing in that juice, because he has never had an orgasm hit him like that and take this long to fizzle out. He kept coming until it started to ache, his body begging for reprieve and yet struggling to empty itself, shuddering with the aftershocks of pleasure as he tried to breathe through it. 

When it finally ended, Shiro slumped back, grateful for the slippery cradle that held him more or less with his head up. Otherwise he might have drowned, he was so out of breath that breathing in the humid air felt like trying to inhale water.  

Lance, for the lack of a better description, melted against him. As if the air escaped his flesh, leaving it hanging on a rubber skeleton like badly used cloth. He mumbled something and licked at Shiro’s neck, gently canting his hips so the metal fingers would slip out of his abused ass with an obscene sound that made his breath hitch... 

Shiro would find it adorable, if his attention wasn’t captured by something completely different - his right arm clicked when the tried to twist it back from the adventurous position he pushed it into in these last moments of ecstasy… It clicked and he  _ felt  _ something fizzle under the casing, and then… 

“Lance.”

“...yeah? Man, don't… make me move… I can’t...”

“Lance, power’s back.”

“...huh?”

His arm flared to life, the the crystals inside blaring purple light as he activated the laser blade. Against his earlier declaration, Lance surged back to life. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

As it turns out, carnivorous alien foliage was not difficult to negotiate with. It was intelligent enough to take the threat posed by a super advanced Galran technology seriously - all it took was said technology slicing through a few closest tendrils like knife through butter. The plant made noise as the severed bits wiggled and bleed more sap, something between a hiss and a gurgle that had both Paladins freaked out for a moment. Thankfully, a full scale battle wasn’t necessary - the vines started to unknot almost instantly, pulling the humans up with them, near the thick branch that Shiro and Lance disembarked on as soon as they could get a good grip on something that wasn’t slick and wiggling. 

From there on it was almost a blur - the mad scramble to get off the damn tree, halted only for a moment necessary to grab their armour and bayards. Lance cursed loudly, pulling his suit back on, disregarding the stickiness of the sap still covering him head to toes and the mess seeping through his shorts. Shiro approved, they needed protection. Just in case. 

He didn’t put his helmet on, but he had the channel open. So far the team seemed busy with their own tasks and they haven’t been hailed by anyone. Fuck, if his hand didn’t come online as it did - how long would they have to wait for help? What would happen in that time? 

Better not to think about it. 

When their feet finally touched the ground, Lance fell to his knees and kissed it. Shiro allowed him that little show of joy before grabbing his arm, hoisting him up and pulling him towards the speeder parked nearby. He needed to get them both to Blue, now! 

The lions were too big to safely traverse the thick forest, so they have left Blue - smaller than Black, who had to sit this one out in the Castle - in the nearby clearing and used the speeder to find the right tree. Now, they raced through the thicket, Lance at the wheel, Shiro pressed to his back, ears and eyes open for danger from all sides. 

He wasn’t as attuned with the other lions as he was with Black, but even he could tell that Blue welcomed them with something akin to worry. She opened her mouth for them before Lance even killed the engine.

Inside, locked safely and guarded by dozens of tonnes of steel and fiery protectiveness, they could finally stop. As soon as the adrenaline rush ended, their bodies deflated and both Paladins landed on the floor. 

“...water,” Shiro croaked out at least, breathing hard. 

Lance crawled towards the small storage box under the main display and produced a handful of water pouches. Like savages, they didn't even bother with straws, biting their way through the plastic, nearly inhaling the water in their haste.

It felt - so  _ good _ . Shiro kept a moan in with sheer force of will, but he would have climaxed right there for the second time, because the relief was immediate. Lance didn’t hold back his pleased sounds; hell, once he finished with the first pouch, he tore the second one open only to pour its contents all over his head and face. Shiro liked that idea. 

Some time - and about twenty empty pouches - later, they were both sprawled on the floor of the cockpit, full to bursting, exhausted, and just now starting to register the unpleasant pull inside of the suits as the slimy sap congealed into the fabric. Not to mention, the sweat covering their faces and wetting their hair was slowly evaporating, leaving both Paladins feeling quite gross and in need of a shower. 

And then there was - the Issue to be discussed that neither of them wanted to touch with a ten foot pole.

Still, Shiro was the leader and his sense of duty pushed him to sort this out now, before they get back to the Castle. Before it poisons the air between him and the Blue Paladin. 

Until he chickens out. 

“Lance…” He started, but was beaten to the punch.   

“That was crazy, eh?” Lance’s voice sounded worn and not a bit hoarse, not surprisingly clear. “This one will go into the book as one of the strangest yet!”

He craned his neck to look at Shiro, their faces close due to the limited floor space inside of the Lion, and smiled him his winner's smile. The shallow, flirty, shit-eating grin that had all the weight of an extended olive branch. 

He was giving Shiro an easy out. 

Shiro could say ‘a strange alien goo made us fuck, huh’. He could hide behind that safe excuse. Behind a smile and a joke. Try to deal with Lance being all over the place for a couple days it took the Blue Paladin to burn through the nervous energy brought on by nerves and fear, and the fact that they’ve had sex. And then they would both get back to their old, worn roles, their places in the grand scheme of things. Lance would go back to flirting his way through every new galaxy and Shiro to his lonely bed and his hand, and his shameful fantasies. 

Or, the thought appeared out of nowhere, he could reach out, spread his fingers on the back of Lance’s neck and pull; reel the man in closer, watch his blue eyes widen in startled anticipation. Feel the press of lips against his - a bit dry, a bit cracked, but ultimately soft and yielding as he tasted them for the first time. 

They tasted nice, he’d like more.

“I’d like to discuss what happened here when we're back in the castle. A full report.” Shiro whispered, not really moving away.

Lance gasped out a startled chuckle before his eyebrows travelled up. “Eh, I’m more of a presentation kinda guy…”

“Acceptable.” Shiro nodded, feeling his lips stretch in a smile. “The case is serious, I’m afraid that nothing, but a full debriefing will do.”

Lance almost choked at the terrible joke. “Oh man! That was awful!”

But then, he still kissed him after, so Shiro guessed it wasn’t that terrible.  

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
